


A Long Road to Travel

by bgn



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-07-12 10:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgn/pseuds/bgn
Summary: First chapter is a prologue to the TV series with my version of how Walt and Vic meet. Following chapters develop their relationship. Other characters appear but it's Vic & Walt's story.





	1. Two Travelers Meet

Vic Moretti was of two minds about moving to Wyoming.

Leaving her job and family was unthinkable at first even though the job had turned to shit and family relations had been problematic forever. She'd always been okay with change in the department, secretly proud that she adapted better than fellow officers who pissed and moaned about the reorganizations that took place every few years. And she was accustomed to upheaval in her family circle. Now she thought acceptance of anything happening around her might have been because Philadelphia was the constant and she'd grown up there. So really, it was leaving Philly that made her uneasy.

On the other hand, the flair of relief she'd felt when Sean said he was being transferred was undeniable. To start over somewhere new was an attractive prospect. She could leave behind the feelings thrown her way every day that were so hard to take: scorn, contempt, pity, even sympathy and the occasional furtive approval. She'd just wanted to do her job well and honorably and she expected everybody else to do the same. When Bobby hadn't, she'd nearly broken under the strain of deciding to do the right thing against almost everyone's wishes.

She managed to do some research while packing up their lives. Thanks to Wikipedia she knew that Wyoming had nicknames – Equality State, Cowboy State, Big Wyoming – and the motto was Equal Rights. Wyoming was the first territory and state to grant women the right to vote and to serve on juries. They had the first female court bailiff and the first female justice of the peace, and all that happened back in 1869 and 1870. They elected the first female governor in 1924. It was a special election after her husband died in office but Vic was impressed anyway. She would still be out of her comfort zone but she felt better about moving more than halfway across the country to the least populated county in the least populated state. She hoped Wyoming hadn't been so progressive merely because there weren't enough men.

Newett Energy paid for relocation and helped find accommodation when employees were transferred. They encouraged Sean and Vic to buy acreage but that was too much commitment at the start. Maybe later if it turned out they loved Wyoming. For now, renting was their preferred option. Sean had a week off to settle in but after that he would be working which included some travel. Vic wanted to work, too. She'd joined the Philly force after college and loved it until recently. She couldn't loaf around keeping house for an often absent husband. Sean had made a tentative suggestion about it being an opportunity to start a family. She told him the timing wasn't right and she wasn't going to have a baby to keep from being bored. Maybe in a year when they were more familiar with the area and felt like they belonged. He took it well and even agreed with her.

They looked online, made a few calls and arranged to view three places when they arrived. Newett provided a company vehicle to executives, and there would be one waiting for Sean in Durant, so they had only one personal SUV in Philly. They drove it across the country, arriving two days before the moving truck. They stayed at a chain motor inn, looked at the properties and made a decision in time to let the truck know which address to meet them at. Vic had been ruthless decluttering before leaving Philly and without kids and all their stuff, moving in didn't take long. They spent the last few days before Sean went back to work driving around Absaroka County and beyond. The scenery was gorgeous and lived up to the first lines of  _America the Beautiful_ : spacious skies, waves of grain, mountain majesties and a fruited plain. Yellowstone National Park and Old Faithful geyser were as advertised. Vic wasn't surprised that tourism was one of the three mainstays of the Wyoming economy along with energy and agriculture.

The previous ten days had been a second honeymoon of sorts but real life began again on Monday when Vic waved Sean off to work. His first week would be spent at the Durant regional office, the second week on day trips to small local offices around the state, and the third week a road trip to branch offices in neighboring states. Vic's goal was to find a job within a month. It would be easier with Sean gone all day and even more so when he was away for a week. Her first week was surveillance of Durant in general and the sheriff's office in particular. She roamed the streets on foot and in her SUV, learning the layout and getting a feel for the people and the rhythm of life before staking out the sheriff's office from nearby shops. She had looked up the Absaroka County website but the link to the sheriff's department provided the most basic info ever - a phone number and the address of the office. No names, no photos, no details. There was no online application either although on reflection Vic was fine with that. She'd rather make contact in person.

Two men and a woman arrived each day: a tall, handsome man a few years older than her who knew he looked good in jeans, boots, hat and uniform shirt; a younger man who was short and stocky but looked earnest and eager; and a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman who was probably a dispatcher and admin support. The tall guy might be the sheriff and the younger one a deputy. Unless they had people on vacation or out on disability, it seemed like too few staff for county law enforcement. The population might be small but it was spread out over a lot of space. The sheriff and the deputy left occasionally – she assumed they were on calls – but she didn't follow them. The three of them appeared to take turns going out and bringing back lunch, often from the Busy Bee Cafe. Not a lot of activity but if something major happened or even several small things at once, they could use another deputy.

On Friday afternoon she waited until the sheriff and deputy were both out before crossing to the building that housed the sheriff's office. She had given a little thought to her appearance but not too much because she was applying today, not interviewing. Her hair was down but pulled back in a no-nonsense style. Minimal makeup and jewelry. She had debated between a skirt and pants and picked the pants. She had worn pants on the mean streets of Philly and was sure that they would be even more appropriate in the wilds of Wyoming. Capri's, flats and a simple top that wasn't too snug and didn't expose her midriff.

She entered the building and immediately saw that the sheriff's office was up a flight of stairs. If there was an elevator or ramp somewhere, shouldn't there be signs about handicap access? She decided not to bring it up on her first visit. Names were posted at the top of the stairs: Sheriff Longmire, Deputy Connally and Deputy Ferguson. The woman wasn't included. That didn't seem in keeping with Wyoming's progressive attitude. Something else she wouldn't ask about today. The names and titles listed were more interesting than the one left off anyway: there was a sheriff and two deputies. Somebody must be away or not on the premises very often. She hadn't covered the place all day every day but she was sure she hadn't missed a third man when she was watching.

The woman was seated at an old fashioned wooden desk inside the door. She looked up with a smile. "How can I help you?"

Vic smiled in return. "I moved here recently from Philadelphia. I was on the force there, a homicide detective, and I wondered if there are any openings."

"There are almost always openings but when they get filled is a matter of budget."

"Some things are the same everywhere," Vic replied in commiseration. "Could I fill out an application?"

"Certainly." The woman rummaged in a drawer and handed over a clipboard with a form on it. "I'm Ruby."

"Victoria Moretti but everyone calls me Vic." She wanted to get that out there right away to forestall being called Victoria or, even worse, Vicky.

"Have a seat and take your time, Vic."

She knew her resume was solid and her credentials impeccable. Philly PD wouldn't bad-mouth her; HR departments were barely allowed to confirm employment. But word tended to get around in law enforcement circles and who knew if this sheriff's department had connections with Philly. Vic figured she might as well do damage control in advance so besides HR she listed her commanding officer and a fellow officer as two additional references. Her CO would probably pass along details of the incident 'in confidence' and might even be fair about it. He hadn't liked having a whistle-blower in his house but that was more because he wanted to stay under the radar until retirement, not that he actually disagreed with her actions. Her friend would balance out the report with Vic's side of the story. It was the best she could do and maybe it wouldn't matter anyway. Philly was far away. She didn't know the pay scale here so she wrote 'negotiable' on the line for expected salary and handed in the application.

Ruby glanced at it but apparently only to make sure it was completed, she didn't appear to be reading it over. She asked, "What brings you to Wyoming?"

"My husband transferred here, he's with Newett Energy." Vic was careful not to say that Sean got transferred which might sound like they didn't want to be here.

Ruby nodded. "Big employer around here."

"Energy, tourism and agriculture."

Ruby laughed. "You've done your homework."

"Not that there's any hurry, but do you have an idea when I might hear back?"

For the first time Vic saw some hesitation. "Well, I would say within a week."

"I'll look forward to it." Vic was satisfied with her first attempt at employment.

* * *

Walt Longmire felt guilty when Ruby's voice came over the answering machine. Not enough to pick up the phone but he hadn't been to the office all week and it was a new low for him to not show up at all. He didn't answer because he'd been drinking and didn't trust his voice. He was far from drunk but it was possible that he would sound drunker than he actually was. No need to give her ammunition.

"I hope you've had a relaxing week off." He wasn't too drunk to catch the sarcasm.

"We missed you but it's been quiet so your timing was good." He wasn't sure if Ruby was being snarky or giving him an out whereby he could claim that he had been on vacation.

"We have a new application for deputy and it's time to make a decision. This one has better qualifications than the one two weeks ago or the one two months ago, neither of which we've done anything about." She was being nice by using 'We' instead of 'You' and not putting the blame on him where it belonged.

"The position has been funded for six weeks so it's time to hire somebody to do the job. If you're not here by 9 am Monday to review applications before interviews start in the afternoon, I'll give them to Branch and you'll be stuck with his choice instead of yours."

Ruby was bringing the tough love. It was a good threat and probably the best thing she could have said to get him to the office next week. He sighed. He'd been wallowing too long. He had thought about going in today to make an appearance before starting over fresh next week. He should have done it because now showing up Monday morning was going to look like Ruby won. Well, he'd go in an hour late just to make the point that he was his own man.

* * *

His name was still listed as sheriff when he arrived at 9:54 Monday morning. Ruby looked up and greeted him as if she'd never given a voicemail ultimatum.

"Morning, Ruby. Have you handed off to Branch?"

"It's not 10 o'clock yet," she said sweetly.

And that's when Walt realized that Ruby had given him a different deadline than herself. He glanced at her calendar and read upside down the notation 'Apps to Branch at 10 am'. He took the folder and said good morning to Branch and Ferg on the way to his office.

The first app was a slightly familiar name. Walt recalled a man about 25 who had moved to the county a couple of months ago. He had been a guard at the state penitentiary. Walt had called to check his references but hadn't gotten around to setting up an interview because funding for the position wasn't approved at that point. The second app was another familiar name, a local kid who had graduated high school a few years ago and whose only qualification was hunting expertise. The third app was Vic Moretti and Walt saw immediately what Ruby meant about qualifications. This was a serious resume.

The guard was coming in this afternoon, the kid tomorrow afternoon and Moretti on Wednesday afternoon. This was Ruby's way of making sure Walt was in the office three days in a row.

* * *

Walt assessed the situation after the first two interviews. The state pen guard wasn't a bad fit but the local kid was a washout. Walt was pinning his hopes on Moretti. He needed someone with experience. Branch was coming along fine but he'd only been with the department for a year and still had some things to learn. Ferg was even greener. He had joined a few months ago. His father had asked Walt to take him on. Even in grief over Martha's death, Walt wouldn't have hired Ferg as a favor but he'd seen something in the young man that made him willing to take a chance. Then Walt had dropped the ball and pretty much checked out for awhile. He'd meant to train Ferg himself and instead had left it to Branch. Branch had done his best but he wasn't a natural teacher and was too new himself to be an effective mentor.

Wednesday afternoon Ruby showed Vic Moretti to his office and closed the door behind … her. Walt had never been one to show every feeling on his face so he managed to hide his surprise, shook her hand – she had a firm grip but not like she was trying to prove anything to him – and told her to take a seat. Then he let his eyes drop to the application lying on his desk to buy himself time and to see what he had missed the first time. Because he had been expecting a man. Right away it was obvious that he'd been careless. Her first name was boldly written as VIC with Victoria in parentheses beside it. His eyes had skipped over the 'ia' at the end. Another wake-up call that it was time for him to start paying attention. He'd always been more observant than average but he'd gotten out of practice lately. He thought back to the call he'd made to Philadelphia Police Department Human Resources. They hadn't used a gender pronoun but had simply said that Detective Moretti had performed satisfactorily. He had known that was all he would get from them and had only called to confirm her employment there. He purposely hadn't called her other two references because he wanted to form his own impression before finding out more.

She was very attractive but wasn't working it. Her blonde hair was down to her shoulders but she left it alone. No fiddling with it or tossing her head around. Her gaze was direct without staring. Her eyes were hazel. The thought flickered through Walt's mind that he'd always been fascinated by hazel eyes because they could look brown, green or gold and sometimes a little blue depending on the light and what the owner of the eyes was wearing. Vic Moretti was wearing a black pantsuit but that didn't describe it. Pantsuits came in all types and this one wasn't a shapeless, woman-trying-to-look-like-a-man type. The pants were tapered and the short jacket was tailored over a silk top. It was chic and not cheap but not designer-priced either. Her shoes were stylish and had a heel but they weren't ridiculous stilettos with a few straps holding them together. Vic Moretti was a good-looking, well-put-together, confident woman who seemed smart and competent. Walt considered offering her the job on the spot but thought they better talk a little first. His instant decision wasn't a man-woman thing although he appreciated her appearance. He simply had an immediate sense of her worth. Besides, Ruby had said she was the best of the bunch.

So they talked about an urban police force compared to a rural sheriff's department and her experiences in Philadelphia versus what she was likely to encounter in Absaroka County, Wyoming. An hour later he said he'd like to drive her around the next afternoon. He didn't add that it would give him time to check her personal references.

Vic smiled. "A field test?"

"Something like that."

"What would be an appropriate outfit?"

"Anything comfortable for hiking."

* * *

Vic was sure she had nailed the interview and didn't think she'd have trouble with the field test either. She was moderately athletic and had always been physically active. Earlier in the week, after Ruby called with her interview time, Vic had gone to a local shooting range because she hadn't shot for a month. She was satisfied with her performance and did well enough that the manager came over to ask about her shooting experience.

Her interview outfit had been chosen with care. She hadn't worn black much in Philly when she was a natural brunette but it was a good look with her newly blonde hair. She had tried not to have preconceptions about Sheriff Longmire but it was human nature to do some guessing and hers had been wide of the mark. She had expected a man in his sixties, maybe with a paunch, ready to ease into retirement. Instead the fucking Marlboro Man had stood up from his desk, minus the cigarette. He was tall, lean and broad-shouldered, casual but authoritative in jeans and a western shirt. His eyes were blue; his hair was brown, lightened by the sun and touched with gray at the temples. He was late forties or early fifties at the most and looked a little worn but far from worn out. They had talked easily together; she felt they were comfortable with each other.

For the field test she pulled on jeans, thick socks and hiking boots. She was already planning to buy boot-cut jeans and cowboy boots if she got the job. She wore a tee shirt under a button-up shirt with a jacket on top. Layers to take off or put back on depending on whether she got too hot hiking or if they went up in the mountains where it would be colder.

The sheriff drove, eyes on the road, but she had the feeling he was focused on her even if he wasn't looking at her. He slowed a few times to point out something and she knew it would turn out to be useful information in the future. They stopped twice, once for a walk across an overgrown pasture thick with brambles and strewn with gopher holes or the hideouts of whatever other subterranean creatures populated the land. The second time was for a steep climb. She puffed a little but was able to hide it; he wasn't even breathing hard. They drove to the edge of the reservation and he told her about the history of the Cheyenne in this area and the sometimes difficult interactions between his department and the Tribal Police. As they headed back toward Durant, he mentioned the starting salary and she said that was acceptable. She had done some research on Wyoming law enforcement pay since filling out the application and the offer was not only in line with what she now expected, but just enough higher that she felt her experience was valued. One thing left:

"Did you check my references?"

"Yep."

"Any surprises?"

"Nope."

"You heard that I turned in a fellow-officer to Internal Affairs?"

"Yep."

"And that didn't surprise you?"

"Nope."

"I guess that's good, since you offered me a job."

"My impression is that it was an unpopular but justified action. I don't think you'll be doing the same thing here just to cause trouble but I would expect you to take that action again if it was warranted."

"He killed himself."

"Why?"

"He was guilty and didn't want face the consequences or have it officially in his record that he was found guilty so he did it before IA finished investigating and ruled."

"So he was corrupt and cowardly."

"Yes, but his partner and friends didn't see it that way. If I hadn't reported him, he'd still be alive."

"And the Philadelphia PD would be a little more compromised. Everybody has to live with their actions. Or not. You're living with yours; he couldn't live with his."

Vic liked this man. Everything was settled so she asked, "When do I start?"

* * *

Walt had been doing his drinking in private at home and hadn't seen Henry for two weeks so he stopped at the Red Pony. As he took a stool at the bar the phone rang and Henry answered with his trademark greeting: "It is a beautiful day at the Red Pony and continual soiree." He listened for a moment and handed the phone to Walt.

"Did you hire her?" Ruby asked.

"Yep. She starts Monday," Walt added, forestalling Ruby's next question.

"Great. I'll call and let her know where she can get uniforms."

"Tell her she can wear jeans or uniform pants."

"Will do."

"And let the guard and the kid know they didn't make the cut."

"I'll be gentle."

"I hired a new deputy," Walt said as he handed the phone back to Henry to hang up.

"Blonde?" Henry asked. "And no hardship to gaze upon?"

"She's been in?"

"Last Friday evening."

"How did you know she was deputy material?"

"She gave off a cop vibe." Henry paused. "And I may have overheard her tell her husband that she applied to the sheriff's department."

Walt knew Vic was married but something pinched inside anyway.

Walt and Henry had met at school when they were twelve years old. Henry was Cheyenne on his father's side and Filipina-Scots-Irish from his mother. It was an interesting mix in the gene pool. Henry had never married but also never lacked female companionship. He didn't use contractions; he thought the more formal way of speaking added to his mystique. He was right.

"I am pleased to see you doing your job again."

"You think I've been slacking off?"

"I would say that you have been phoning it in but since you refuse to use a cell phone I will say instead that you have been going through the motions for some weeks."

"It's been months but I appreciate the understatement."

"Did you hire the female deputy because she was the best applicant or to annoy Branch?"

"Best applicant. Annoying Branch is a bonus."

"Where is she from?"

"Philadelphia, homicide detective. Her husband got transferred, he's with Newett."

"She will shake things up around here."

"Another good reason to hire her."

"She did not strike me as a person who would tolerate her boss slacking off."

Walt was silent.

"You think so, too." Henry smiled. "You have provided yourself with a back-up conscience in case your own fails you again."

Walt nodded. "Reinforcement. Ruby has known me so long she tends to go easy on me sometimes."

"If you wanted your ass kicked, all you had to do was ask."

"You would have enjoyed it too much."

"What are friends for?"

* * *

On Monday morning Vic pulled her hair back in a ponytail and showed up at 8 am in low-rise boot-cut jeans, cowboy boots and a uniform shirt. The shirts ran a smidge small; it would be a little tight in cooler weather when she planned to wear a long-sleeved tee under the shirt.

Ruby told her the judge liked to get out of his chambers so he would stop by to swear her in at 9 am instead of the entire department trooping over to the courthouse. The sheriff came out of his office to introduce her to Branch Connally and Archie Ferguson. Branch was the tall handsome one, Ferg was short and stocky. Branch was reserved but not hostile, Ferg was friendly and welcoming. The sheriff said it was a small office and they spent a lot of time together so they used first names. The judge arrived and ten minutes later the swearing-in ceremony was over. Walt handed her the deputy's star to pin on herself. Branch and Ferg wore theirs on their shirts but she hooked hers on her belt. Ruby brought out a cake and they had a little celebration. The judge polished off two pieces of cake and three cups of coffee before leaving. Walt took her into his office and presented her with a department-issue firearm and ammunition, name tag and official ID, radio, a set of handcuffs and several long zip ties, a flashlight, baton, mace and an equipment belt with holster to hold everything. Vic Moretti was a duly sworn peace officer of Absaroka County, Wyoming.

But not quite official yet. Walt handed her over to Ruby to complete the forms and went back to his office to catch up on his own paperwork. After that it was lunchtime. Branch and Ferg had each been out on a call but they were back so Walt took the entire department to the Busy Bee. A good many people stopped at their table to chat and be introduced to the new deputy. After lunch Ruby and the other deputies returned to the office but Walt and Vic walked up and down the main streets and around the square to introduce Vic to local merchants. Walt kept up a running commentary about everyone they saw. Then they got in his truck and drove further afield, stopping less often for introductions, but he kept up the commentary about people and places. By that time it was late afternoon and they were off the clock.

"One more stop," Walt said, "If you've got time for a beer. But it's optional if you want to get home."

"I've got plenty of time. My husband is away this week taking the Newett tour."

Walt drove to the Red Pony.

"Oh, I've been here," Vic said happily. "It's a great place."

"Friend of mine owns it."

They went inside and took a table. Henry came over to serve them personally.

"My new deputy, Vic Moretti. This is Henry Standing Bear, proprietor of the Red Pony."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance. You have been here before with a man."

"My husband. You remember us from that crowd?"

"I remember you. I cannot bring your husband to mind."

"I bet you can but it's sweet of you to say you only recognized me."

Henry turned to Walt. "An intelligent and charming addition to your staff."

Walt nodded. One thing had started to bother him: Vic Moretti was too good to be true. Her resume was terrific. Her appearance was just right for the interview and they had clicked immediately. She asked good questions and listened well. She had been comfortable in the pasture and on the mountain. She fit in at the office. She was friendly and personable to everybody he introduced her to. She took the right tone with Henry, flirtatious in response to him but nothing over the line. He could tell that turning in Bobby in Philadelphia and his subsequent suicide still bothered her and Walt was worried that regret was making her behave too perfectly. The strain of never making a mistake would wear anyone down. He didn't want his new deputy to snap a few weeks into the job.

Henry brought beers and went back behind the bar. They sipped in silence but it wasn't uncomfortable. Vic figured Walt had talked more today than he usually did in a week.

"Thanks, Walt. This has been a great first day and I appreciate you taking the time."

"Branch and Ferg handle most of the routine calls. You'll go with them at first until you've got a better idea of what a routine call is around here. When something more serious comes up, I handle it and usually take one of them with me. I'll be taking you for awhile until I know you're up to speed."

"Sounds good." Vic took another sip just as a man fell against her chair, dunking her nose in the beer before spilling it down her shirt and across the table. "Son of a bitch!" popped out, very loudly, before she could stop herself. She looked up apprehensively, wondering what Walt would think of her outburst.

Before either of them could speak, the man picked himself up and apologized with the careful enunciation of advanced inebriation. "My apologies, ma'am. Let me buy you another round and pay for your dry cleaning."

She waved away the offer. "Don't worry about it. Time I was getting home anyway."

"Bob Barnes, this is my new deputy Vic Moretti."

"You're as lovely as the dawn," Bob spoke with sincerity but very slowly in order to get the words out right.

Vic bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Thank you, Bob."

Bob stumbled away. Vic turned back to Walt as he spoke: "Just as well you turned Bob down. He can't afford to buy a round or get your shirt cleaned. Henry has to cut him off regularly until he can pay his tab."

"Sorry about swearing at your friend. Maybe I should have mentioned that cursing is kind of a hobby, but I'll try to keep it under control."

Walt's lips twitched. "Good to know you have a flaw."

"I have a few but my mouth is the main one. Italian, you know. My husband's name is Keegan so Moretti is all me. Plus Philly is a tough town and I got used to making myself heard, one way or another."

"As long as you're professional when you need to be, you'll do fine."

Walt wasn't worried about his deputy anymore, he was worried about himself. When Vic said her mouth was her main flaw, he knew she meant what came out of it but still, he'd had to stop himself from saying he thought her mouth was perfect.


	2. Traveling in Groups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after the pilot episode.

Walt liked being on the road with Vic. They had covered a lot of miles together during her first month. After that she went on her own for routine calls. There hadn't been a case big enough to demand his involvement until a few weeks ago. It was odd that he enjoyed her company so much because she wasn't a restful person to travel with. He never knew what she might say or where the conversation would lead.

He'd backslid after his good intentions six months ago. Not completely because he didn't drink to excess and he was usually in the office, but he wasn't very productive. He was angry when he first saw Branch's campaign sign but as much at himself as with Branch. Only when he was in danger of losing his job did he realize how much he wanted to keep it. There was time to turn things around but if the election didn't go his way, he could accept that he deserved defeat.

* * *

Riding down a road with Walt had become one of Vic's favorite things. There were often a lot of miles to cover on the job and he tended to take her with him even now that she wasn't a rookie anymore after six months on the job. The first serious case since she started had wrapped up two weeks ago.

They passed one of Branch's campaign signs with one of Walt's opposite it. Neither of them mentioned the election. Vic liked Branch well enough. He was a little cocky and overestimated his abilities but they got along and he hadn't been openly resentful of her although he must have felt displaced when she joined the team. Vic was in favor of Walt's reelection because she truly thought he was the best man for the job but she was also secretly glad that Branch was running. Walt needed that motivation to show that he wanted the job enough to fight for it.

Walt had been great her first month on the job. Then, as she began finding her own way, he cut her loose. Which was exactly what should happen but he hadn't done it so that he could concentrate on his own duties as sheriff. Instead, he had absented himself in spirit if not body. This was to say that he was in the office regularly but not really taking care of business. Vic had learned that it wasn't the first time; in fact, it had become a habit after his wife died a year ago. Vic was sympathetic. The man had a long, happy marriage to a woman he loved. His answering machine message was still recorded in her voice. But enough was enough. Get laid and move on! And then she felt bad about being impatient with his grief even though she was careful not to express that impatience. And she felt guilty because somewhere deep inside she knew that her marriage didn't have that level of devotion on either side. Or maybe she was being cynical because things weren't so good with her husband lately. She loved Sean and was sure he loved her, too, but they were going through one of their periods of sniping at each other. Meanwhile, Walt had taken charge again when Grant Parkford was killed and Vic thought he would stick with it this time. If not, she would say the things she had not said so far. And if that didn't snap him out of it, she'd vote for Branch.

Vic spotted a swirling cloud of dark wings that reminded her of something Walt had said when they found Parkford's body. "Is that another unkindness of ravens?"

Walt took a look. "Nope. Those are crows."

"So if ravens are an unkindness, are crows a kindness?"

Walt shook his head. "A murder of crows."

"Are you fucking with me?"

The question lay between them for a moment. The stark phrase 'fucking with me' brought a far different picture than what the words meant in context.

Walt broke the stillness with another headshake. "A group of crows is called a murder of crows."

"Who comes up with these? Why not just call birds a flock, animals a herd and fish a school?"

"A school of fish sounds funny when you think about it, but we're used to it. Not all fish are a school. Sharks are called a shiver."

"Are you making this up?"

"I'm not that quick."

"Yes you are. Or you might have been planning it for a while."

"You give me too much credit."

"A shiver of sharks – you surely must be shitting me."

"All that alliteration off the cuff. You're quick, too."

"Just trying to keep up. And I'm going to look it up." Vic pulled out her phone and started googling. "Huh."

She glanced over in time to watch Walt's slight smile turn up the corner of his mouth.

"How do you know all this?"

"I read a lot. And I'm sure I don't know all of them."

"You wouldn't have to know them if you had a phone with internet. You could look up what you want to know."

"Easier to just know it."

Vic was scrolling. "Okay, I get it. You're a buffalo about cell phones."

Walt smiled again. "An obstinacy of buffaloes."

Vic didn't pursue his obstinate tendencies. She was already on to something else. "What are some animals in Wyoming?" she muttered, scrolling again. "A gang of elk. A destruction of bobcats. A pack of wolves. That one I knew. A sleuth of bears? Are these detective bears? Should we put them on the payroll?"

Walt was still smiling. Vic had noticed that he smiled quite a bit when they were together. Not a big grin, just an upturn of the mouth that she had started watching for.

"I believe they're also called a sloth of bears," he said.

"That doesn't seem right. A sloth is an animal. They shouldn't use an animal name for another animal's group. I'm sticking with a sleuth of bears. Oh, you're also a rhinoceros, Walt."

Walt frowned. "I thought it was a crash of rhinoceroses."

"Alternate name is a stubbornness of rhinoceroses. A congress of salamanders. Well, that fits Washington DC. So does a bloat of hippopotamuses." Vic grinned at Walt. "Do you regret getting me started on this?"

"Yep." But he was smiling again.

 


	3. Traveling a Dark Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during S1E2 A Dark Road.

Vic was fuming. Ordered to check fingerprints while Walt took Branch with him back to the strip club with the parting shot that Oden had seen enough of her for one day! Was he ashamed of her and how she got Davis Turner's name? Walt had an old-fashioned sense of propriety but he wasn't prudish. Anyone in law enforcement saw too much of the dark side of life to be easily shocked.

Vic had the impression that Walt enjoyed her sometimes provocative conversation. On their way to Oden the first time, after calculating how much money she could be making as a stripper, she'd joked about being able to dance and that she had a nice ass. She'd thought he was amused, not embarrassed. Had she got that wrong and this was his way of punishing her? She didn't think so, but what the hell was going on?

She hadn't minded Branch telling the rest of the office; it was a funny story and he told it well. Coming from her it would have sounded pretentious even though all she had done was take off her jacket and uniform shirt and swing around the pole a few times. She was wearing a tank top under the shirt so her bra hadn't even been on display. If Walt had been there he would have seen that it wasn't a big deal. A thought tickled Vic's mind: maybe he was sorry that he missed the show.

* * *

Walt wasn't sure why he had been unreasonably irritated when Branch told how Vic got the name at the strip club. He thought strip clubs were sleazy and exploitive but that was a personal opinion, not a moral judgment that everybody involved was going to hell. He knew Vic was wearing a top under her uniform shirt so no one had seen anything and it didn't sound like her moves had been very suggestive. The patrons wouldn't have expected her to go any further; it was a playful way to make it all right for someone to give up the name. Maybe some wish fulfillment on Vic's part as well, based on her talk while they drove to Oden the first time. He'd been a little uncomfortable listening because he started picturing it and those were not images a widowed sheriff of 49 should have about his 33 year-old married deputy.

Still, he wished he had seen the actual performance.

 

  


	4. Traveling by Helicopter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after S2E1 Unquiet Mind.

FBI Special Agent in Charge Towson was a stand-up guy after all. When Vic and Ferg arrived at the airport Towson and ASAC Hall were about to board the first chopper heading up the mountain. Vic didn't beg; she just stood there looking at him.

Towson returned the look for a moment before saying, "Hall, the second chopper will be ready in half an hour. Wait for it."

Hall looked disgusted that he was being bumped by the deputy who decked his boss but Towson was the boss so he said, "Yes, sir," like a good subordinate.

Vic jumped on after Towson. She simply said, "Thank you," and apparently the sincerity came through because he nodded acknowledgement.

* * *

The helicopter set down in the center of the clearing. Vic jumped out before the rotors stopped, ducked low and ran to where Branch and Henry were bending over a figure propped against a tree stump. They turned and called out, "He's alive," but she didn't stop until she was close enough to fall on her knees by Walt's side. He looked at her, his mouth in that familiar upturn.

She smiled and took a deep shaky breath of relief. And coughed, her face grimacing. "What is that smell!"

"Henry put some stuff on Walt's ears and face," Branch said. "I don't know what's in it but I'm staying upwind."

"OIR," Henry said solemnly.

"Old Indian Remedy," Walt translated before Vic or Branch could ask.

"Where is Agent Brooks?" Towson asked urgently.

"Mine shaft," Branch said. "Follow me. She's wounded but not badly. She was wrapped up and protected in there so she's okay. Is there another chopper on the way?"

"Thirty minutes out. The sheriff gets the first ride. I'll wait and go with Brooks."

The two EMTs arrived with a gurney. "Let's get him on the way to the hospital. We can treat him in the air." They looked around at the group. "With the gurney, there's only room for one more."

"That's me," Vic said.

In the helicopter, the EMTs stripped Walt efficiently by cutting all his clothes and peeling them away. They were especially careful with his gloves and socks. Fingers and toes were separated with gauze. He was wrapped in wet warming blankets.

Vic quietly asked, "Will he lose any fingers or toes?"

"Fingers, I don't think so, they're already pinking up," Cindy said. "He's got good gloves and probably kept his hands in his armpits. A few toes look iffy but we'll know soon. Face and ears seem okay. He's lucky."

"Vic, did you come along just to see me naked?" Walt asked.

"Don't flatter yourself. If I wanted to see a cold body, I'd visit the morgue. And if I wanted to see you naked I would have made it happen somewhere warm and comfortable. I came because I hoped the helicopter pilot would be Harrison Ford. No offense," she called out to the pilot.

"Very little taken," the pilot replied. "I disappoint myself sometimes, not being him."

"Have you met him?"

"I have. He's better at search and rescue than acting."

"You're not serious."

"He does rescue work in one take without a production crew or a stunt double."

"Vic, his ranch is way south near Jackson," Walt said. "He doesn't work this far north."

"A girl can dream."

Cindy said, "Sheriff Longmire, you must have hot blood and great circulation because everything is looking pretty good."

"Would it be indelicate of me to ask if private body parts are affected?" Vic asked.

Jason laughed. "Unlikely. They're close to the body and they tend to draw up for warmth."

"Could you check, just to be sure?"

"Vic, that's enough." Walt sounded stern.

"You must be wondering. I'm asking so you don't have to."

"I'll take a look," Jason offered.

"No," Walt said in a forbidding voice.

It was too late. Jason had lifted the warming blanket. After a couple of seconds he tucked the blanket back in place and said, "He's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Vic, drop it!"

Vic shut up. When Walt took a certain tone she knew it was time to pull back instead of pushing. She changed the subject. "Where's my cell phone?"

"Probably under Wayne's body. I stabbed him in the face with it."

"See how handy they are? Multiple uses, like a Swiss Army knife. Are you going to give in and get one?"

"I'll think about it."

"So that's a solid no."

The chopper landed on the pad on the roof of the hospital and Walt was wheeled away. Vic followed slowly. She'd have coffee, which would warm her up and give the staff time to get Walt settled in a room and do whatever else was necessary. She also had to find a phone so she could let Cady and Ferg know that Walt was okay. She did that first.

Vic took a table in the almost empty cafeteria, sipped hot coffee and thought about losing Walt. The idea was unimaginable yet she was imagining it and it was unbearable. She was aware of the undercurrent between them and she was sure he was aware too but neither acknowledged it openly.

It wasn't romantic, although an occasional sexual frisson made her quiver at odd moments. Walt might not feel that, and if he did he would probably dismiss it immediately. He was too decent a man to come between a husband and wife. No, their relationship was mostly friendship, an enjoyment of each other's company and a realization that for all their differences they worked well together and their personalities meshed. Vic wished her marriage was as good. It was a constant seesaw. One week they were fighting and she hated Wyoming and didn't want Walt to let Sean know she'd been shot with a bear tranquilizer. The next week she and Sean were having make-up sex and she loved him and Wyoming. Walt listened stoically to her oversharing of both situations and didn't judge.

Vic recognized voices around the corner at the vending machines. It was the EMTs from the chopper.

"When you looked under the blanket," Cindy said, "Was it what I think was happening?"

"If you think he had a boner, yeah, that's what happened," Jason replied.

"Is the sheriff hot for his deputy or was it some weird reaction to extreme cold?"

"Speaking as a guy twenty years younger than the sheriff, who can't get hard in cold water, I'm going with hot for deputy."

Vic thought about that. Maybe Walt felt an occasional frisson after all.

* * *

Walt was warm and almost comfortable again. Cady was sitting by his bed. Ferg had called to tell him that the second chopper had landed at the hospital twenty minutes ago and Agent Brooks was stable. Henry and Branch were on the way back down on horseback. Omar and the waitress were safe and waiting to be brought down the mountain.

He was trying to forget the embarrassing incident in the helicopter. It had been a weird reaction, that was all. Skin tingles as it warms up after extreme cold when blood circulation is restored. He was just grateful that Vic didn't know what happened.


	5. Traveling at a Slant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after S2E6 Tell It Slant.

The Contrary Warrior's purpose in doing the opposite of what was expected was to get people out of their comfort zone and force them to examine their beliefs. The time spent with Aaron Two Rivers and the days solving his sister's murder was making Walt think more deeply about his own situation.

He hadn't come to terms with Martha's death because of the circumstances surrounding it and the events in Denver afterward. It had left him stuck in time, unable to move forward. That was all right, for awhile, because he hadn't wanted to move forward. That was beginning to change but why did it make him uneasy? Martha's memory would always be with him; it wasn't as if he could ever forget her. So why not let her go a little, just enough to be really present with Cady and Lizzie.

And Vic. She had become an important part of his life. There was an attraction between them but he wasn't embarrassed or particularly worried by it because he had no intention of acting on it and neither did Vic. Her marriage was a little shaky right now which wasn't unexpected for a couple who uprooted themselves from a familiar life back east to transplant in Wyoming. They had been here less than a year and were still settling in and settling down. He felt a little like her therapist because she told him things he wouldn't have talked about to anyone of the opposite sex and maybe not even to Henry. At the same time it was gratifying that she felt she could confide in him. They were friends. He recalled something he had heard: Friendship is like therapy for poor people. Vic could afford therapy if she needed it but apparently he was an adequate substitute.

What bothered him were comparisons his mind was making between Martha and Vic. Martha was a beautiful, intelligent woman with a good sense of humor. So was Vic. But Martha was a woman of her generation and Vic was from the next one. The words meant different things when he thought of each woman. Martha's beauty had an old-fashioned modest quality; Vic's a modern boldness. Martha's intelligence was more thoughtful than Vic's decisive, confident instincts. Martha's humor was quiet and subtle; Vic was in-your-face with her quick wit and sharp tongue. There were other differences. Martha had been strong enough physically until she got sick but Vic was stronger and tougher. Emotionally, Walt would turn it around. Martha had strength of spirit that allowed her to face a terminal diagnosis with courage and grace. Vic was far from fragile emotionally but she was more brittle and Walt thought she might break under intolerable strain. They were two completely different women so how could he like each one so much?

Two men had recently used the word 'pushy'. The matchmaker Jeremiah Rains said a lot of guys think American women are pushy and overbearing. Omar Rhodes said he liked pushy women. Vic had rolled her eyes at both of them. Walt thought Martha might have done the same so they had that in common. Maybe most women would.

He wasn't the only one with these two women in mind. Questions about both had been directed to him at the debate. First Roseanne said she was pulled over by a foul-mouthed blonde lady who wasn't even from here and why was Walt taking jobs away from Wyoming residents. Walt calmly stated that Deputy Moretti was a resident of Wyoming and his most experienced officer. If Roseanne had come to him he would have looked into any problem with the traffic stop.  
  
Walt had heard about it from the foul-mouthed blonde herself and while he was aware that there were two sides to every story he tended to believe Vic who had told him that an entitled bitch was deeply offended when issued a speeding ticket for twelve miles over the limit. Roseanne was a life-long resident of Durant; she was a pleasant enough woman but entitled described her exactly. She was small-minded and small-town-minded.

Then a Cheyenne man brought up Martha's opposition to the casino. By the time Walt explained Martha's concerns, assured the group of his own impartiality and listened to Branch's smarmy recital of his plans for casino security, he welcomed Aaron's interruption of the proceedings. 

No clear answers had emerged yet but Walt felt he had at least got his thoughts in order. Until he realized that he had been so focused on the two women nothing would happen with – his dead wife and his deputy – that he had given no thought to the two he should be concerned about: his daughter Cady and Lizzie, the woman he was sort of seeing. He was left feeling at a slant all over again and he wasn't up to more soul-searching right now.

The Two Rivers brother and sister puzzled him. Cassandra's 'psychic visions' were the result of an ability to read people and do research. So why had level-headed Martha consulted her? Maybe the cancer that was consuming her had already eroded common sense. People facing a death sentence can be desperate for answers before they pass. Martha had wanted to know if the cancer would kill her and what would happen to her husband. The tape of Martha's session could be played anytime but Walt was glad that Cady had stopped it as they listened.

Branch considered Aaron a head case, Vic said he sounded annoying, and he had grated on Henry's last nerve years ago. Aaron was a fraud like the sister he had killed. Aaron's belief that the thunder spirit resided in him was most likely alcohol combined with paranoid schizophrenia. Aaron himself said his thunder dreams were a calling and a curse. So why did Walt still believe Aaron might be a vessel for some force that couldn't be controlled or understood?

Before Walt took him to jail Aaron had insisted on speaking to Gretchen and Calvin Cowley about their missing daughter Emma. Aaron said his sister told him she was outside Burlington in Vermont in a blue house. Walt hadn't been sure why Aaron wanted to speak to the parents. Had Cassandra said something to him or was he trying to give comfort with the continuing hope that their daughter was still alive?

* * *

Four months later Emma Cowley was found chained in the soundproofed basement bedroom of a blue house outside Burlington, Vermont. More than two years earlier she had been kidnapped by a man to care for his mother who had advanced dementia. The chain was long enough for her to reach a small bathroom in the corner. She was physically unhurt and had not been sexually assaulted. Emma knew that she would be killed after the old woman died so she had taken very good care of her. Time was running out when she was rescued; the old woman died two weeks later.

Aaron had been committed to a psychiatric ward for treatment. Walt questioned him but, consumed by grief and guilt, Aaron was uncommunicative. His own voice along with the ones in his head had finally been silenced.


	6. Traveling with Lizzie

Walt owed Lizzie Ambrose an apology.

That he couldn't deliver it was eating at him. He knew Lizzie had been more invested in their relationship than he was but he had gone along with it and even briefly thought it might work. Then Cady was hurt and guilt about what happened in Denver got him thinking he didn't deserve to move on. Atonement must be made. He had treated Lizzie badly at the hospital and gone off to Henry for help with the sun dance ceremony. It had worked, Cady woke up and was recovering. When Walt went to Lizzie's house, it was closed up and she was gone. Walt could have tracked her down but he hesitated for two reasons: He would be using his position and resources for a personal matter and, maybe more importantly, Lizzie didn't want to hear from him or she would have been easier to locate. He didn't blame her. Fear for Cady didn't excuse his abrupt dismissal of Lizzie. She had been nothing but kind. She had been the aggressor in their interactions but that last night before the election he had slept with her. It had meant more to her than to him, and word about Cady had come just hours later, but that didn't absolve him of using her.

Walt shouldn't have gotten involved with Lizzie. She had been interested, maybe a little too obviously interested, but he wouldn't have taken it further if it hadn't been for Vic. He wasn't blaming Vic either - blame rested squarely with him - but Vic had encouraged both of them which, looking back, seemed odd because she hadn't appeared to like the relationship after she helped get it started. Well, it was over now but he didn't feel good about how it ended. Lizzie had put her house on the market shortly after leaving. She'd made a lot of improvements; it was a valuable property that sold quickly. Walt had hoped she would be back to sign papers but it had all been handled through a realtor. Now he was left wondering if he should find her and apologize. He finally decided that it would make him feel better but make her feel worse and that wasn't his goal. He could admit to himself now that he had wanted that first time with a woman after so many years with Martha to be over and done with. Lizzie had been more than willing.

Walt shied away from the thought that he was also trying to distance himself from Vic. It hadn't worked anyway because her hand on his shoulder as he sat by Cady's bed had been more comfort than he wanted to acknowledge. He'd suspected from the beginning that she might be trouble and it had solidified early on when he, Vic and Ferg had gone to look at the body of that man mauled by Waffles. There was a stream to be crossed by log. Ferg went first and continued on. Walt went next and had stopped to look back and see that Vic made it across. He wouldn't have checked on Ferg or Branch and there was no need to check on Vic either. She hadn't grown up in this environment but she had already proven herself equal to climbing mountains and fording streams. He had simply been compelled to stop and make sure she was safe.

Vic was still on his mind, and Lizzie was one more regret to carry.

* * *

Vic knew it was for the best that Lizzie was out of the picture but she was sorry about her own role in pushing Walt and Lizzie together. She had been feeling ambivalent about Walt. She was married and, even though it was rough with Sean sometimes, she shouldn't be feeling more than friendly liking and professional respect for another man. When Lizzie answered her door and was so obviously taken with the sheriff, the solution seemed clear. Get them together so Walt would be off limits and Vic could quash this inappropriate crush on her boss.

Lizzie was a nice enough person but Vic didn't much care for her type. Lizzie played the 'poor little woman who needs a big strong man' card right from the start. Admiring how tall Walt was, fainting in his arms, saying she was all alone out there. Vic didn't think that was Walt's type long-term but this could be like a rebound after his wife's death. The first relationship wouldn't last but hopefully it would drag on long enough for Vic to get herself under control. So Vic told Walt that Lizzie was cute and he should ask her out.

Walt didn't bite but Lizzie wasn't a quitter. She showed up at the office and wrote a check for Walt's campaign. Walt mistakenly assumed Vic had given Lizzie the idea and he was furious with Vic and Vic was furious right back. That should have cooled her feelings but somehow had the opposite effect. By the time Lizzie stopped at the office again, with a gift for Walt, Vic was fed up with her and glad that Walt wasn't interested. Except he was. He called her and they had drinks at the Red Pony. She had stayed over at his cabin although Vic was pretty sure nothing had happened. Not then. It probably would have happened at Lizzie's house the night she called in a false home invasion if a real crime hadn't occurred. Vic was disgusted by Lizzie's sex kitten seduction ploy. And disgusted with herself for pointing Walt at Lizzie, assuming she would be a safe distraction.

Vic didn't like realizing that she was as manipulative in her own way as Lizzie was with her weak-sister act. It had been even more painful to learn that Walt had slept with Lizzie the night before the election. And then finding Cady at the side of the road and knowing how devastated Walt would be. Thankfully, Cady was all right now. And Lizzie was gone but her breakup with Walt had been bad and Vic wasn't blameless in the whole situation.

Walt bore some fault for this thing, whatever it was, between them. Vic had told Walt that he was different from her husband because he was a real man. But men are all alike in some ways. On that case with the bear Vic had caught Omar watching her ass when she bent over to tie her shoe. Later when she, Walt and Ferg had to cross a stream by log to get to the body of a man the bear had killed, she had been last on the way in but on the way back Ferg went first and Walt motioned her to go ahead of him. He had figured out he could look at her ass crossing that log. Why had it pissed her off when Omar did it but she felt more flattered than annoyed when Walt did it?

Walt was still on her mind and Lizzie was one more regret to carry.


End file.
